


Screw Dinner

by Blacklace



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Barton family farm, Canon Divergence, Getting Together, Laura is clint's sister, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, happens after AoU, hawksilver - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 17:58:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3905548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blacklace/pseuds/Blacklace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pietro sneaks out every day to see Clint. Or rather to spy on him. What happens when Pietro can't take it anymore and decides to pull a prank on Clint?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Screw Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> So, school is crazy and I'm probably getting my ass handed to me later for writing this instead of studying. But I needed to get this out of my head.  
> I've seen the AoU twice already and I absolutely fell in love with these two idiots <3  
> Also please note it's not beta'd, so all mistakes are mine.

“What the f-“ he couldn’t even finish. The surge of wind taking the words out of his mouth.

Familiar blur of blue and silver surrounds him in a tight circle. _Pietro_ , that damn brat. He’s running around Clint, blocking him from getting anywhere. Clint is already annoyed with the kid.

“What, you didn’t see that coming, old man?” he hears the sneer in Pietro’s thick accent. It does all sort of things to him hearing Pietro’s voice again. Sure, the kid was mostly infuriating, if you asked Clint, but there were times when he actually liked him.

Like those times when Pietro had been so lost in Stark’s tech and needed help. He would come to Clint, of all the people, asking for help. And who was Clint to be mean to the kid. He could hardly resist those big eyes and messy hair. And Pietro seemed to realize that. Pulling on those strings anytime he could, but not quite abusing his powers.

But there were also times when Pietro decided to drive Clint up the wall with his maddening demeanor. Like right now.

“Stop it!” Clint cusses. He was supposed to do some actual work at the farm, not play around or god forbid, put arrows in a very particular someone.

But the annoying Sokovian won’t stop. He seemes to be amused and satisfied with Clint’s helplessness.

Clint left for his family farm to clear his head couple weeks ago. A lot had happened in the past month. Things have changed after Pietro almost died for him. The younger man was still that all-over-the-place-pain-in-his-ass, but Clint noticed. The little things. Like the way Pietro would tug at the end of his sleeves when he was uncertain or nervous. The way his eyes would skim over the room when he was bored. The constant buzz of energy that was surrounding him. Or the way he would smile every so often at one of Clint’s light-hearted jokes. He had a soft spot for the kid, no matter how much he could manage to get on his nerves. And that’s why he had to leave and clear his head. He couldn’t trust himself around the kid. When Pietro was around it made him want to do stupid things.

Like kiss him silent kind of stupid.

So when the bastard turned up uninvited at his doorstep, Clint knew it wouldn’t end well.

Finally, after couple more minutes of Pietro running around him, pulling his hair and laughing, Clint decides to put a stop to it. He calculates his movement carefully, concentrating on the pattern of Pietro’s movement. He prays to get it right. If he misses he’s gonna make a fool out of himself. And he won’t hear the end of it.

“Gotcha!” Clint yells at the same time he tackles the younger man to the ground. But the impact is much stronger than Clint anticipated. With Pietro’s speed and the inertia of his movement it sends them both rolling in the grass. Leaving stains all over their clothes. And bruises. A lot of bruises.

When they finally stop tumbling, Pietro is on top of him. He’s laughing uncontrollably, strands of silvery hair falling beautifully to his eyes. Clint curses himself for making such a stupid decision. Now he has to deal with the consequences. Very solid consequences, mind you.

The kid is still giggling on top of him, radiating like a freaking furnace. And he doesn’t look like he’s going to move anytime soon.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Clint tries to make his voice sound stern, but somehow he ends up sounding pleading.

“Come on, it’s fun!” Pietro cheers, brushing his hair back hastily.

Clint follows the movement with his eyes. He tries to concentrate on whatever other aspect of Pietro he can. Anything but the solid weight on his chest. Reminding him of the fact that Pietro isn’t a kid anymore. Not with those wide shoulders and insane physique that puts even the Captain to shame sometimes. Clint would have to be fucking _blind_ to not see that.

Besides, Pietro is wearing one of those ridiculously tight running t-shirts he owns. It looks almost painted on, revealing all the flexing muscles beneath. Clint has to do something about this situation before he manages to make a fool out of himself. He quickly turns them around and locks Pietro in a tight grasp.

The younger boy exhales quickly, surprised by the sudden action. Clint could swear his pupils are suddenly dilated more than they were just seconds ago. He opens his mouth to speak, but the little shit beats him to it.

“Now that we’re talking,” Pietro purrs, not bothered by the position he’s in at all. He even looks comfortable, and what is Clint’s life again?

The blond relaxes his arms, lays them on the ground behind his head. He’s spread obscenely under Clint in what you would only call an inviting gesture.

“We’re done talking,” Clint grumbles and moves to get off the kid before he does something he might regret later.

What he doesn’t expect is for the little bastard to be quicker and tackle him back to the ground.

Like a freakin’ _child!_

“Okay, okay!” Clint throws both his arms up in the air. “What do you want?” he growls, but he isn’t really angry with the kid.

Because the truth is – Clint was feeling rather lonely in the spacious farm. Left alone with his thoughts wasn’t doing him any good.

“I don’t know. Talk, maybe?” Pietro tilts his head to the side, propping his chin on his arms. He’s resting comfortably atop Clint, not looking like he would get up anytime soon.

Despite the kid being constantly in a hurry, Pietro seems surprisingly calm at the moment. Even the usual buzz of energy seems to be much lower around him.

“About?” Clint is forgetting why Pietro made him feel so uncomfortable these past weeks. All he can think about now is how close he is. Alive and very real.

“Why are you here? Why not train with us in the Avengers house,” Pietro _pouts_. He fucking pouts and Clint just can’t with him. He looks so young, his eyes sparkling like fine wine, messy hair falling back to his face. It reminded Clint of the age difference between them, proceeding to make him feel guilty once again.

“I needed to fix the dining room,” Clint lies, avoiding Pietro’s gaze. He doesn’t know why he even tries to lie to the kid when he could never hide a thing from him.

“Bullshit,” Pietro’s brows furrow. “You’ve done that days ago!”

_Wait a minute._

“How would you know that?” Clint frowns and tries to get up on his elbows to get better look at the kid’s face. He realizes what a mistake that is just seconds later when their faces are dangerously close. Trying to keep his stance, he stays still. But he knows that if Pietro stays a little longer on top of him, he’ll feel how fast his heart is beating.

Pietro falls silent. He averts his gaze from Clint’s and starts getting off of him. At first Clint doesn’t understand, but then it slowly dawns on him.

“You were sneaking away from the facility all this time?” he couldn’t believe the kid.

Pietro looks up at him through his long lashes, looking guilty as a golden retriever puppy. He’s sitting on the ground now with crossed legs, fumbling with the long sleeves of his shirt.

“Oh no,” Clint rolls his eyes in annoyance at the boy. He rubs his hands on his face, not wanting to believe it. Trying to get the younger man to look at him, he sits across from Pietro.

“How many times?” Clint asks. He tries to be angry with Pietro, but can’t find it in him.

Deep in his heart he feels the familiar glow of warmth spreading through his stomach. He would’ve never guessed that Pietro sneaks out only to spy on him. The kid had to know very well what was he risking by running away and not telling anyone. Of course, he wouldn’t be seriously punished by Steve, but there were consequences nevertheless.

“I have lost count…,” the blond says quietly. “Are you angry?” he looks up, eyes wide with fear.

Clint sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. “Hell no,” he says after a while. “But what if Steve finds out? You’re damned. And I won’t cover for you. No wa-” Clint tries to sound firm and tough, but his last sentence dies in laughter when Pietro throws himself at him and sends them both to the ground one more time.

“Say no more!” he replies happily as he continues to squeeze Clint in his arms.

They are quiet for a while. Surrounded only by the beautiful nature and sunshine. It takes Pietro couple of minutes to start talking again.

“I was worried,” he admits and bites his lower lip. “And I missed messing with you,” he adds with that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. Clint groans and gets up, leaving the blond sitting on the ground. He missed that kid, too. It was his pride and fear that didn’t allow him to say these words back.

“How long are you staying?” he asks instead. All their banters and prank wars – they had grown on him. It was hard not to laugh every time Pietro tricked him. Or when he tricked Pietro, for that matter. Maybe that’s why Clint wishes the kid would stay around.

“I don’t know,” Pietro shrugs nonchalantly and gets up to his feet. “If I don’t want Steve to find out, I better start heading back,” he makes it sound like he doesn’t care at all.

He stands there, brushing the grass from his track pants. But Clint knows better. Why else would the kid run so far, risking his ass getting busted? There was something behind Pietro’s weird behavior and Clint decided to find out what it is.

And how did he manage to run this far without getting completely exhausted anyway?

“We could hang out for a bit,” Clint offers before he can stop himself. He knew pretty well what he was getting himself into. “I mean… if you want to, of course,” he adds quickly.

Pietro’s eyes light up light a Christmas tree. In that moment Clint knew it was all worth it. No matter what would the kid do or what pranks he would decide to pull on him. The lights in Pietro’s eyes were damn worth it.

“But what about Steve?” the blond scrunches his nose. It seems like he doesn’t want to get on cap’s bad side and Clint understands. Steve was something like a father figure for most of the Avengers. Well, maybe except Tony. But Clint wasn’t exactly keen on finding out what the captain did in bed with Stark.

“I could still call for a favor…”

 **o_O_o_O_o_O_o**  

 

Clint didn’t want to admit, how much he missed the young punk. But he did. He missed him so badly that he convinced Steve Pietro could stay for a day or two. Claiming that the kid needed some space and freedom without fences and walls surrounding him. It seemed to work well with Steve. Even though Clint had heard that weirdly _amused_ tone in Cap’s voice. He wondered why that was, but decided to ignore it.

Whatever the cause was. Clint was now stuck on the farm with the annoyingly hyperactive blond. That he adored so much. Pietro was sitting on the fluffy carpet in the living room, looking around and taking in all the details of the old house. He looked oddly calm, Clint thought. Maybe it won’t be such a hardship after all.

“So, what do you wanna do?” Clint asks as he walks into the living room. He puts the phone back on the coffee table and sits comfortably on the couch. Pietro looks up at him and smiles. A true, genuine smile.

“It’s getting late,” Pietro points out.

The sun behind windows is getting low. There would still be couple hours before the sunset, or so it seemed. The sun would pour the last of its heat over the quaint landscape. Giving it a golden halo – stark contrast to Pietro’s silvery hair. Clint wanted to see how the younger man would look. Deep down he knew it would be devastating to him. Seeing how perfect would Pietro look with sun casting soft shadows upon his cheeks.

“Are you tired?” Clint questions with raised eyebrows. He didn’t quite catch where the younger man is going with that statement.

“No,” Pietro shakes his head with a smile. “I thought we could cook dinner, maybe?” he looks hopeful, Clint thinks. Sitting there on the floor he reminds him of the countless times he would have his sister’s kids around. They would always sit on the soft carpet and play with their toys. Clint loved to watch them play, it always made him wonder whether there will be a time when it’s his own kids playing there.

“Dinner?” Clint shakes off the weird though about his sister’s children and puts on a smile. “Sure, we can cook,” he shrugs. “But no powers,” he raises a finger in a warning, making Pietro chuckle.

“Okay, no powers then, old man,” Pietro muses and gets up.

“’M not old,” Clint murmurs under his breath. Unluckily for him Pietro heard that. He laughs sweetly, patting the older man on shoulder.

“And I am not a kid, remember?” he teases and walks towards the kitchen.

They seem to work surprisingly well together. They dance around each other, poking fun and laughing at childish jokes. Clint doesn’t miss the way Pietro looks at him. There’s a small smile on his nicely shaped lips, but he doesn’t want to make anything out of it just yet. Clint lets himself wonder where Pietro learnt how to cook. He read his official record. Orphaned in a very young age, living with some distant relatives later on – trouble child. Then taken to Strucker’s lab for years of sick experimenting. Clint didn’t want to go down that road as he knew it would be painful and dark down there.

Instead, he allows himself to live in the moment. When he thinks the younger man can’t see him, he watches. Pietro is light on his feet, his fast reflexes allowing him to avoid collisions and catch whatever it is Clint drops by mistake.

“I said no powers,” Clint huffs when Pietro catches the wooden spoon mid-air.

“I was just being nice,” Pietro smiles like the cocky bastard he is and pushes the wooden spoon to Clint’s chest. He stands so close to Clint that he can make out the different shades of blue that are Pietro’s eyes. He knows they are too close, risking.

Their fingers brush briefly and Clint’s breath catches at that. Pietro smiles shyly as he turns around to get back to taking out the dishes. Clint stands there frozen for another second or two before he forces his body to move again. He makes a mental not to dwell on the brisk touch and returns back to stirring the deliciously smelling sauce. But no matter how hard he tries, his skin still tingles with the barely-there contact.

He’s lost in the chain of thoughts so that when Pietro comes closer to stand behind him, he doesn’t notice. Not until Pietro places his warm hands on Clint’s hips and squeezes. Clint hisses, closing his eyes in delight. Pietro takes that as a yes to press closer, pushing his chest flush against Clint’s. The older man has to grip the kitchen counter tightly, feeling blood rushing out of his head.

“What are yo-“ he tries to protest, but is silenced when Pietro places his hand over the one he’s stirring the food with. His heart is beating fast in his ears and he can barely hear what Pietro says next.

“Let me taste it,” Pietro says like it’s a totally normal thing to do.

He guides Clint’s hand up and tastes some of the sauce, humming in approval. “You’re really great cook, you know?” he praises and Clint absolutely refuses to believe what that kid does to him.

“Pietro…” he starts in a choked-off voice. He’s hot all over and he doesn’t know whether it’s the heat from the stove or Pietro’s insane metabolism that’s making him so flustered. What did he want to say anyway? He forgets the moment Pietro presses a bit firmer against Clint’s back. He feels all the tight muscles and Pietro’s breath ghosting sweetly over his neck. His own breathing becoming erratic. The blond lets go of his hand and it feels like hours to Clint.

Instead, Pietro puts his hand back around Clint’s waist, holding him firmly in place.

“Just say the word,” Pietro whispers, his nimble fingers finding its way under Clint’s worn out t-shirt. He lets them rest low, just above his hipbones, rubbing small circles with his thumbs. It sends shivers down Clint’s spine and he suddenly feels weak in the knees. “Tell me to stop and I will,” Pietro husks, lips brushing against Clint’s nape with every _breathy_ word, forcing a bit-off moan from Clint’s lips.

“Damn it, Pietro,” Clint curses and spins around, pinning the kid to the kitchen counter. He wastes no time and shuts the annoying brat up with his mouth, like he always dreamt he would. The effect is instantaneous. Pietro full on _moans_ to the kiss and parts his lips involuntarily. His fingers found its way in Clint’s hair, making a mess. He tugs on the short strand in desperation like he’s suffocating. The kiss turns absolutely _filthy_ in no time.

Pietro’s lips are scorching and soft at the same time and Clint can’t get enough. His hands are roaming over the stupid tight t-shirt, feeling all the muscles flex under his touch. He bites down on Pietro’s lower lip, debauching him, making him look like a mess. Clint quickly realizes he can’t get enough of the sounds Pietro is making. Wanting more of that, Clint lets his hands grab the backs of Pietro’s thighs and pulls him up on the kitchen counter. They knock down a few things, but neither of them could bring themselves to care.

“God, I wanted to do this for so long,” Clint says through gritted teeth when Pietro is placing open mouthed kisses on his neck.

“Yeah?” the younger man breathes out and Clint can feel the smile on his lips the next time he places them on his skin. He allows himself to get lost in the feeling and clutches _harder_ on Pietro’s hips.

“You have no idea,” Clint chuckles and gently takes Pietro by his chin so he could look in his eyes.

He looks delicious. Pupils blown wide, swallowing the crystal blue of his irises and leaving only a small circle at the outside edge. His lips red and swollen from all the kissing and biting. Even though Pietro’s metabolism is built to withstand extreme physical strain, Clint notices how fast and uneven his breathing is.

“You know, it’s funny…” Pietro starts in a confident manner. Clint feels like the kid is about to do something. And he is right.

Pietro gets off the kitchen counter, placing a hand on Clint’s chest and pushing him ever so lightly. Clint doesn’t understand, but steps away anyway. What he doesn’t expect is for Pietro to get back to the stove, only to turn it off. The blond then turns around with what could only be described as a feral gaze.

“I’ve wanted this since I first saw you,” he trails, stepping closer to Clint again. “Wanted to drive you mad, piss you off,” he smiles and shows his white teeth. “At first, I was childish, yes,” he says in that thick Sokovian accent that Clint fell in love. That’s still driving him crazy. “But then…” he steps a little bit closer, framing Clint against the counter. He cups his face gently and inches as close as he possible can. “Then I realized, how badly I wanted you,” he says quietly.

Clint can’t stand it anymore and closes the short distance between their lips. The kiss is short and hard. The right amount of _painful_ and desperate, just like Clint figured Pietro would like it.

“Screw dinner,” he mutters as he lifts Pietro up once more, this time allowing the blond to wrap his legs around his waist. They kiss all the way up the stairs, knocking a few pictures off the walls. They leave a trail of clothes around the house as well.

Pietro is loud. Screaming, cursing and pleading for more.

And boy, does Clint love it. 

**o_O_o_O_o_O_o**

 

They wake up tangled in sheets.

There is a mess of silvery hair, sleeping and breathing evenly on Clint’s chest when he wakes up the very next morning. Sun is poking its way to the bedroom, warming up the air and making everything look soft.

Clint can’t resist. He trails invisible patterns over Pietro’s smooth skin, listening to his steady breathing. The boy doesn’t wake up for another half an hour or so. When he does, it’s with a huge smile splayed across his face. He has never seen the kid so _happy_ in his life.

Or perhaps he wasn’t looking close enough.

They spend the day around each other. Pietro borrows some of Clint’s clothes since his are all dirty from the grass stains. It twists something in Clint when he sees Pietro walk out of the shower, pulling a black shirt over his head. The shirt maybe a little too tight over his chest and arms.

It is right then when he realizes this is his final destination.

Pietro.

That _annoying_ hyperactive kid.

He wants to spend the rest of his days with him. Love him, give him everything he would ever ask for.

“What?” Pietro asks and tugs on the bottom of his t-shirt in in his usual nervous manner.

“Nothing, c’mere,” Clint smiles and pulls the blond to his arms. He looks in the blue of his eyes before he cups his face gently and kisses him. The kiss tender and slow, almost _fluid._ Not like the other night when they were both craving each other so much.

“So, does this mean I won’t heave to sneak here every day?” Pietro asks in a quiet voice.

Clint laughs, shaking his head fondly at the kid.

“No, you won’t have to,” he assures him. “Besides… Steve already told me he knew,” he winks at Pietro who has a look of pure horror on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are very welcome! :) I hope you enjoyed my slightly cheesy work :D After I'm done with exams, more is coming! (along with my unfinished Stucky fic, I promise!)


End file.
